Azog_360



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    As his footsteps recede, Will considers it; a fleeting feeling of fuck it, the world’s already ending that quickly fades the moment he glances back over his shoulder, watching a blur of camo disappear through the doorway before it closes once again, softer this time.

    “…So,” Joyce starts, bringing Will back to his senses. “You know you’re what?”

    Fixing Will’s coming out scene because I’m still bitter.

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    11 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 27

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    It’s something he tries not to think about.

    Like most of the traumatic events in his life, it’s buried deep in the back of his mind. He only brings it out to pick at it anxiously in the dead of the night, unable to sleep out of the overwhelming fear that something might happen to his father while he’s unconscious. In the middle of the night, the moon hanging high in his bedroom window, he picks. Thinks about her. Thinks about the life he could’ve had if it weren’t for his poor mother losing her mind. Thinks about how the disease is hereditary. Thinks about how long it’d take for him to succumb, to end up like her.

    But there’s one part about the whole ordeal that he doesn’t dare think about. A part that he feels if he so much as ponders, his father will wail. He tells himself he made it up, that it didn’t really happen. He tells himself over and over again.

    Stiles Stilinski never had a brother.

    -----

    a teen wolf x maze runner crossover fic in which stiles and thomas are long-lost twin brothers.

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    10 Jul 2026

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    Mike has finally made it as an author. But writing about your own past can get complicated, especially when fans start to draw conclusions that point Mike in the direction of the person he's been writing about all along.

    And living life is hard. Especially when you're doing it all on your own. But grief and love are a lot more similar than you might realise. They both tend to wake us up from the monotony of our lives.

    OR: Mike has a horrible time, which somewhere along the way turns into a wonderful time.

    Podfic version by Sahana: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83941371/chapters/221295601
    Russian translation: https://ficbook.net/readfic/019ce7f9-31da-7933-8df9-83a19fad21d6

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    36/36
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    09 Mar 2026

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    He feels like shit when he's hungry, and he plays better when he's empty. The cold air doesn't touch him as much. The floodlights turn silvery-soft.
    And he likes eating. Keeps his hands busy, mouth busy, mind busy. Something to chew through, putty in the ears.
    Go until he can't anymore. Cycle it back out. Be ready.

    OR: Buck's had on-again, off-again bulimia since he was 14.

    Title from Psychic Friend's "We Do Not Belong".

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    22 Feb 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    He was crying. “You can do that?” He repeated, feeling like he was in some sort of dream.

    And then, Sirius seemed to realize. Because for a twelve-year-old, he was decently smart, and knew him better than anyone. “D’you…d’you want to do that, Reggie? I thought…I thought it was just a game?”

    But he could only shake his head. Because it wasn't a game. He was a boy. And he could tell from Sirius's nervously resigned expression that Sirius knew it, too.

    "It's...not a game."

    ---

    There's not enough Trans Regulus Black, so here's a fic to help fix the problem. Rated mature for lots of references to transphobia and Walburga Black being a piece of shit.

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    22 Feb 2026